


show me where my armour ends (show me where my skin begins)

by oswinne



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Period-typical unsafe sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Skinny Dipping, a.k.a i wasn't going to get them to use a condom made out of pig intestine...i'm sorry, i'm not sure what the plot threshold is for pwp so i'm still tagging as that :'), if they had facebook in the Middle Ages their relationship status would be 'it's complicated', knight!Woojin, mentioned past!ongwink, prince!jihoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 22:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16395959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oswinne/pseuds/oswinne
Summary: When Woojin swore fealty to King and country, he'd promised to protect Jihoon in every possible sense of the word. He just never expected it to be like this.Or; Prince Jihoon is being married off to a foreign power for the sake of a political alliance, and he wants his first time to be with someone he trusts, someone who cares for him. (Woojin is both those things, and more.)





	show me where my armour ends (show me where my skin begins)

**Author's Note:**

> 2PARK WEEK DAY 4: TURMOIL
> 
> Oof I'm posting this ""a bit"" late for Day 4 >.< but all the same, thank you to the organisers of #2ParkWeek for putting this event together! and fighting~ to those who are planning to post content over the next couple of days ♡
> 
> *Title taken from Pluto by Sleeping At Last

The Prince is restless and that means Woojin, too, is disquieted. It’s been like this more and more lately, everytime Jihoon returns from a private audience with his father the King, and Woojin hasn’t yet found the words to ask; has decided to let Jihoon confide in him when he’s willing and able.

****

All the same, Woojin can tell that tonight, whatever it is that weighs down on Jihoon’s shoulders, causing him to crumple the moment he returns to the privacy of his own chambers, is more burdensome than usual, and Woojin dearly wants to help, even when he has not been asked.

****

After all, before they were Prince and subject, before they were charge and protector, they were friends, first and foremost. No matter how much Jihoon has accused him of forgetting that fact.

****

So Woojin bends the rules a little in order to afford Jihoon some time and space to breathe.

****

It’s been a long time since they last snuck out like this, and a thrill of nostalgia runs through Woojin as they creep through the halls and out into the stables, one hand on his sword where it is sheathed at his thigh, and the other grasping Jihoon’s hand tightly.

****

The clack of their horse’s hooves on the cobblestone is jarringly loud amidst the quiet of the night, in spite of their purposefully slow pace, and Woojin wonders how they’d ever gotten away with it in the past, no doubt struggling to keep their own noise down, sharing barely muffled giggles at the thrill of the clandestine.

****

Once they’re out of the lower township though, they can make a break for the treeline, hurtling into the surrounding woodlands at a gallop and from where he’s seated behind the Prince with the reins in hand, Woojin can feel some of the tension leave Jihoon’s body the further they get away from the castle. Woojin allows himself to enjoy the proximity as Jihoon sighs in relief and leans back against Woojin’s chest, revelling in the way the wind rushes through his hair and pinches the apples of his cheeks a ruby red.

****

Their gait slows when they near their destination; the serenity of a forest stream hidden away among a towering grove of willows. The limbs bend, as if weighed down by the curtain of leaves they bear that obscures this secret spot. As if weeping; at times, alongside its visitors.

****

This is where the stream widens, deepens, on the verge of becoming a river. They used to come here when they were younger, when youth meant playing pranks on the royal tutor, trying to outdo one another as they sparred with whatever was at hand, and real responsibility was only a faint glow on the horizon. Back then, their kisses were as clumsy as their marksmanship and just as tart as the few apples that fell victim to it, but they were raw and real in a way that made them feel as if the world was theirs, ripe for the taking.

****

All that changed when Jihoon came of age and began to take on his princely duties in a more official capacity. At the same time, Woojin finished his training with the other nobles’ sons at the Palace and was accepted into the Royal Guard.

****

Though still at each other’s side just as much as they’ve always been, things are irrevocably different now. What once seemed within easy grasp in their golden years as teens, now belongs only to the versions of themselves in any world other than this one; in any world where their circumstances don’t seek to keep them apart just as much as they keep them together.

****

Dismounting, Jihoon takes in their destination with a contented sigh and a roll of his shoulders. He sends Woojin a grateful look before heading towards the water.

****

Woojin keeps his back turned as Jihoon undresses; hand on the hilt of his sword as he surveys the trees around them, keeping watch for any intruder, anything that may be amiss. He tries not to think too hard about the rustling of clothes and the clink of a belt buckle behind him and what image may accompany them. In recent years he’s trained himself to catch the kind of thoughts that might cause trouble right at the root, before they can grow, but it’s still an imperfect method when Woojin’s brain is wired around everything Jihoon, simultaneously trained to jump to consideration of the Prince in every matter.

****

“Aren't you coming in?" Jihoon voices his inquiry casually, as if Woojin were right beside him, but he doesn't need to project any louder, his words carry easily over the bubble of the river, even from where he luxuriates in the water, and Woojin supposes he can't then pretend that he hasn't heard.

****

He turns to survey the Prince who shines pale in the moonlight that reflects off the water lapping at his waist.

****

“I needn't join you, Your Highness," Woojin replies simply, maintaining his watchful gaze over their surrounds out of necessity, not because he wishes to avoid looking at the ethereal man waiting in the water, like some kind of fatally beautiful nymph seducing him to drown.

****

(To drown, in emotion he has worked hard to keep at bay.)

****

“My place is up here where I can keep watch,” he continues. “Please, by all means, pay me no mind and take this time for yourself. I will not disturb you.”

****

“Yet there is something I wish to speak of and I would much prefer to do so at your side.”

****

“I can hear you perfectly from here, Your Highness.”

****

“Please do not do me the indignity of requiring me to call my concerns out to you upon the bank, Woojin.”

****

At the sound of his name, Woojin's eyes snap back to Jihoon's and he is reminded that, regardless of whatever inner turmoil of Woojin’s own may be entreated by their circumstances, the reason they have come here is for Jihoon's peace of mind. Woojin, in proposing the escapade, had designs of comforting a friend and he grudgingly acknowledges that he will be no less equipped to protect the Prince from a closer distance in order to achieve this.

****

If anything, the proximity would allow Woojin to act as a human shield where his short range weaponry may prove useless. It is with this assurance of Jihoon's continued, uncompromised safety, that Woojin finally agrees.

****

A good thing, as the Prince had sounded half a beat away from turning his friendly request into a royal command.

****

Unlike Woojin, Jihoon doesn’t turn away in an imitation of modesty. He watches steadfastly from his place in the water as Woojin lifts his shirt over his head and steps out of his breeches. He leaves the scabbard, buckled firm above his hips; sheathed sword hanging at the ready beside a muscled thigh.

****

For Woojin's part, he makes a valiant effort to maintain the eye contact, refusing to appear cowed or be made bashful by something as simple as Jihoon's gaze. After all, he's used to going toe to toe with the Prince in whatever challenge arose between them, but these days he hardly understands what resides in the depth of Jihoon's thoughts and now, the hard intensity of the look in Jihoon's eyes as he watches his knight undress ー it's not something Woojin can fathom.

****

When he enters the water, Woojin can feel the tug of the current against his limbs; its gentle but persistent persuasion for him to join it downstream. It’s not too strong to resist but as Woojin meets Jihoon’s eyes again, he can imagine how, in time, the current might wear one down with its intoxicating pull.

****

The soft smile he receives in reward for joining his charge in the water makes Woojin’s heart clench, but he returns it, albeit a little strained, and waits for Jihoon to find his words, watching as the Prince turns his gaze to the surface of the water where he drags a fingertip to and fro in contemplation. Woojin keeps his eyes up, else he might find himself tempted to collect the droplets of water decorating Jihoon’s collarbones with his tongue.

****

“It seems I’m to be married in the Spring,” Jihoon murmurs, as if testing the words; the weight of them on his tongue, the way his own lips move to accommodate their escape out into the open.

****

Perhaps it will take some practice until Jihoon is able to say them with a tone that invites congratulations rather than commiseration.

****

Woojin is too frozen by what he has heard to offer either.

****

It’s not entirely unforeseen but his heart cries out at the injustice of so swift an upheaval.

****

_I thought we had more time._

****

_More time for what?_ He can imagine Jihoon rebuking his hypocrisy as, after all, Woojin has refused all his advances; distanced himself from even the hint of something more between them.

****

All the same, Woojin realises that the proximity they have maintained regardless, every hour he has spent alone in the Prince’s company even as his personal guard, has been a luxury. A finite one.

****

“To Princess Seungwan, the eldest daughter of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Kyuhyun of the Essem Isles,” Jihoon continues, as unimpassioned as if reading the formal royal decree itself.

****

As the youngest of three Princes, Jihoon has more political value abroad for the royal Park family than at home. Crown Prince Jinyoung, set the inherit the throne, handles most affairs of State and whilst Jihoon’s sharp mind has proven him an insightful advisor to his brother and father, clearly this has been valued as an asset best at play in the Essem Imperial Court. Woojin can infer from the Princess’ position in her Imperial household that it is Jihoon who shall travel to join his betrothed in her homeland.

****

Whether or not Woojin will join him, neither is sure. Although the knight will do all he can to talk his way into accompanying the Prince, should he face any opposition.

****

Woojin doesn’t know Princess Seungwan. Nor does Jihoon, for that matter. By all accounts, if they had heard them, she could be breathtakingly beautiful, her mind more than a match for the philosophers of old, and her heart kind to a fault; yet the fact remains that she is a stranger. One who is to become the very opposite of that in only a matter of months. Or, more likely, she will paradoxically remain a stranger for the time being, even as she assumes the title of spouse.

****

Whether Jihoon’s recent audiences with the King have all revolved around this arrangement, Woojin does not know (there is too much he does not know, for his liking), but what is obvious is that Jihoon does not share the news with expectation of a solution, or desire for a strategy to divert the course of proceedings.

****

He is telling Woojin what he must, at some point, have found out, and he does so with a resignation evident in the slump of his shoulders and the thin press of his lips. This apparent acceptance of his fate does nothing, however, to dispel his apprehension.

****

Woojin knows, better than anyone, how the Prince has hoped to marry for love, even if it was not to be his first love.

****

He aches to somehow comfort Jihoon in the face of this new predicament, in the face of a future they both knew was coming but has only now manifested tangibly. Only now has a face, a name.

****

Jihoon provides an opportunity for Woojin to do so when the Prince leans in to bring their lips together in a kiss so soft it belies the restlessness that has been coursing through Jihoon’s veins since he returned to his chambers that night.

****

In spite of the strict, self-imposed honour code that has bound his own desires, Woojin lets it happen, his reflexes honed for combat rendered useless in the face of a Prince Jihoon whose eyes are welling with tears. Woojin would give his life for Jihoon, what more is a kiss as comfort in a time of emotional turmoil, or so he reasons.

****

In the delicate press of their lips, there is none of the ferocity that Woojin remembers, none of the feverish desire or pent up frustration. The gentle hand on Woojin’s jaw, the tongue that parts his lips and rubs over the roof of his mouth - it all speaks of the way in which Jihoon is baring himself to Woojin in more ways than one, opening himself to Woojin emotionally in a way he hasn’t for years.

****

Though they’ve spent nearly every day in each other’s company, even after coming of age, Woojin realises just how much he’s missed Jihoon, missed _his_ Jihoon, and so he kisses back just as reverently, caught up in a dizzying whirlpool of memories of the past and hopes for the future.

****

Kissing Jihoon tastes of waning moonlight and chances they let slip through their fingers. Woojin runs his open palm over the expanse of Jihoon’s back, pressing him closer, feeling each hill and valley of Jihoon’s spine under his skin. Jihoon shivers and Woojin only pulls him closer.

****

When they part, they share a shuddering breath and Woojin can feel all of it, every shiver, every rise and fall of Jihoon’s chest from how close they are to each other.

****

In Jihoon’s eyes, Woojin sees the shimmering night sky that poets and bards have waxed lyrical about, but more importantly, he sees the stars that are crossed; the burning points of light that have been fated to deny them since day one.

****

It reminds him that, in giving in to nostalgia more than he had anticipated in suggesting this midnight gallivant, he has dangerously tempted the crossing of a line he has worked so hard to protect all this time.

****

He’s somewhat glad that, in leaning forward to hook his chin over Woojin’s shoulder, Jihoon has missed the expression of regret that has passed over Woojin’s face. He can feel the movement of Jihoon’s adam’s apple against his collarbone when Jihoon swallows in readiness to speak.

****

“I’m going to go through with it,” he murmurs quietly, confirming what Woojin has already suspected, and Woojin pretends his heart doesn’t break a little at the resignation so plainly voiced. Jihoon continues, tightening his arms around Woojin’s waist, “That’s the calling I was born into; to give everything for our people. Which I’m willing to do for all but one thing. Maybe it’s trivial…”

****

Woojin rubs a thumb, warm and coarse, over the soft skin above Jihoon’s hip, encouraging him to keep speaking.

****

“Maybe it’s trivial but I don’t want my first time to be in my marriage bed with someone with whom I have barely an acquaintance.”

****

“It’s not trivial if it’s something you care about.”

****

Woojin can appreciate how hard it is for Jihoon to confide his worries when he feels the pressure to live up to the indomitable image of a confidently perfect prince, and this matter is no different. He feels Jihoon smile against his shoulder at the affirmation.

****

“I want it to be with someone who cares about me. Someone I-- trust.”

****

It takes a few moments for Woojin to realise that this is more than a mere statement on Jihoon’s part. It is a question.

****

One that Woojin doesn’t know how to answer.

****

As Jihoon’s fingers dig nervously into the small of his back, Woojin does not miss the irony that he had so dearly wanted to help, wished that Jihoon would ask that of him, but now that he has, now that Jihoon has asked the unexpected from Woojin in support, the knight finds his entire being flooded with hesitation.

****

At least, he allows the hesitation to overwhelm him in lieu of what other, more dangerous, feelings might find it timely to arise and lick at his insides, like searing hot tongues of flame threatening to consume him. To entertain the fulfillment of Jihoon’s request is something to be avoided at all costs, especially now, with the Prince pressed close against him, unclothed and unfairly beautiful in the moonlight.

****

He gulps. “Your Highness...I...we can’t.”

****

Jihoon stiffens in his arms; not at the rejection per se, but at the form it takes.

****

“Woojin,” he reprimands, all vulnerability washed away in favour of exasperation. Having gratingly allowed the use of the reverent title in their earlier exchange, now that what they speak of has taken a more personal turn, he cannot abide by its use. “I don’t know how many times I must tell you; you don’t need to call me that, not when we’re alone.”

****

Woojin stares over Jihoon’s shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around the other. “It’s your title, Your Highness.”

****

At that, Jihoon seems to give up, pushing away from Woojin and out of his hold as if he doesn’t have the energy to argue his point yet again. After all, they have made their temporary escape from the castle in order for Jihoon to recuperate some of the emotional energy that has been drained from him by the duty on his shoulders.

****

Instead, Jihoon finds himself hurt.

****

Woojin can tell that he’s hurt him by clutching at their difference in rank and holding it between them with the desperate intent of creating distance.

****

Yet as much as it pains the both of them, it’s something Woojin has to do. Jihoon’s rank isn’t inconsequential; in fact, it is far from it. To continually draw this line between them is the only way to keep Jihoon safe, to keep their relationship one that will not compromise Woojin’s ability to protect him. So he’ll keep drawing it however he can; be it in the sand or with blood from the gaping wound in his chest.

****

Even if Jihoon hates him for it.

****

He watches Jihoon go, back still turned as he dresses himself, and then, only then, does Woojin move to join him on the bank.

  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Woojin knows that it is his hand more than Jihoon’s that has made them like this.

****

In the eyes of the Prince, that which had begun to grow between them as they entered adolescence could have continued to flourish even after he had taken on more duties, even after Woojin had assumed his position as his personal guard. Woojin, however, disagreed. What mattered first and foremost to him was Jihoon’s safety and he would willingly have dueled any other knight who dared to challenge his appointment at the Prince’s side. He didn’t trust anyone else to protect Jihoon, but it meant that he could be at Jihoon’s side in one capacity only.

****

It was a choice he’d had to make and one he doesn’t regret, even now.

****

No other prospects, of marriage or any other stability, could have been on the cards for them, regardless of whether Woojin served Jihoon directly or not. That was something Jihoon, too, had come to understand with time.

****

Estranged is not quite the way he would describe them, but it is not entirely ill-fitting either. They are still the closest person to each other as they had been in childhood. They still share jokes between them that no other castle-goer understands. They still delight in ribbing each other, there is still a competitive spirit between them. However, there are moments when their easy dynamic becomes strained. Times when terror has brought them into each other’s clutches for solace. Times when Jihoon has had too much wine, enough for its influence to erase the recent years and return him, in his mind at least, to a time when he can freely smother Woojin with affection, or try to.

****

In these moments, they become acutely aware of the effort it has taken to set their relationship on its current path; that their current trajectory is so markedly different to what it could have been.

****

Jihoon, though initially bitter about it, has grown less vocally dissatisfied as time has gone on, and Woojin can’t help but wonder if that is because his feelings have begun to fade, wearing down against the stone wall to which they have been directed.

****

For Woojin, it is still very much a balancing act. Like treading on the edge of a sword because he is still very much in love, more so than his younger self had been in spite of the self-imposed emotional distance. Spending every day at the Prince’s side, seeing him grow into his role and command it with skill and confidence, is a privilege unlikely to diminish the depth of the knight’s regard.

****

The single steed they had enlisted in their escapade had seemed a good idea at the time; significantly less conspicuous than two, they thought. Yet now, the back of one horse is far too small a space for the two men and the noxious mix of disappointment, guilt and frustration swirling in the air between them. Jihoon seeks to keep as much of a gap between them as possible, whilst Woojin hopes that the other does not come to realise how much his suggestion has truly affected him. Though the jolting movement of their ride on horseback does little to assist him in this endeavour; encouraging his muscles to reminisce, to imagine, even as his mind tries not to wander.

****

Their return to the castle is subdued, and a degree of regret crawls across Woojin’s skin, as he hopes that Jihoon was able to derive some measure of comfort or calm from the outing in spite of the note it has ended on.

****

Woojin follows the Prince along the corridors, a few steps behind and when they enter the Prince’s chambers, he watches as Jihoon silently moves to lie down, almost as if he is deflating against the rich fabrics of his bedding. He does not spare Woojin a look as he does so.

****

The Prince has lain down at the far side of his opulent bed and Woojin is uncertain as he watches from afar, whether he has done so in order to distance himself as much as possible from Woojin, or to leave space for him.

****

Woojin chooses to take it as a dismissal, inclining his head even though Jihoon cannot see him, does not care to see him, and intends to take his leave.

****

Woojin is well aware that Jihoon’s discontent arises, not from Woojin’s refusal to grant his request, but from his insistence on strained cordiality. As such, he’s not sure whether or not Jihoon will ask again. It must matter to him a lot, for him to even come to the point of asking.

****

If not Woojin, then perhaps Jihoon will approach someone else. He is not short of admirers among the nobility with whom he maintains friendship and Woojin catches himself before he goes so far as to argue Jihoon’s feelings for them could never surpass nor even compare to those he harbours for Woojin.

****

In refusing Jihoon all this time, Woojin has relinquished his right to know exactly what it is that Jihoon feels, or to claim any ownership over it. It is not inconceivable that, when given no hope, Jihoon would have tried to move on; to find someone else in whom he could place his affections; and, most importantly, from whom he could receive affection in return.

****

Woojin has no clue as to who that might be exactly, but even the idea of nameless, faceless competition causes the hairs on his arms to rise and his mouth to run dry.

****

_No,_ he has to remind himself yet again. _Not competition_.

****

Any potential suitors are not vying against him because he has withdrawn from that particular contest. Nonetheless, it had comforted him that what might be considered the prize, Jihoon’s heart, was his regardless.

****

Even so, the thought of Jihoon approaching someone other than Woojin for this request does not sit well with him. In fact, it weighs down upon him so greatly as to slow his steps as he approaches the door.

****

Rather than leave to station himself outside the Prince’s chambers, Woojin halts then, slowly, deliberately, he reaches out to slide the bolt across from the inside.

****

Silently, but with a certain determination in the set of his shoulders and the hands fisted at his sides, he goes to crouch by the Prince’s bedside, reaching to take Jihoon’s hand in his where it is dangling off the side. Jihoon startles, moving to sit up but he does not tear his hand from Woojin’s grip.

****

“Woojin, what--?”

****

Woojin runs his thumb back and forth over the soft flesh of Jihoon’s palm. “You know,” he says softly as he looks up at his Prince, “that there isn’t anything I won’t do to take care of you.”

****

The confusion on Jihoon’s face softens, but doesn’t disappear completely as Woojin presses a kiss to his palm.

****

“I..” Woojin swallows, “I want to do this for you but are you sure?”

****

His gaze is steady, taking Jihoon seriously, allowing him to change his mind.

****

“I’ve thought about it- I mean, I wouldn’t have asked this of you lightly Woojin, but that doesn’t mean I expect it of you. You’re free to refuse, I won’t hold it against you.”

****

“As I said, I want to. Even though you know how I feel about us, you deserve some kind of choice in all this. You deserve someone who cares about you.”

****

_Someone who loves you_ , is what Woojin means.

****

They’re both aware of it even though it remains unspoken. Even though it has to remain that way for Woojin to keep his wits about him.

****

Ironically, though Woojin has always seen his love for Jihoon as a weakness ever since they came of age, now it appears that, in this endeavour to comfort Jihoon, it will be his strength.

****

He’ll need what strength he can get to treat himself and his Prince as lovers, to indulge in all that they had dreamed of when they were younger, only to have it ripped from his hands come morning.

****

Woojin doesn't think this will break him - he knows it will - but this is what Jihoon needs in order to go on, to acclimate to the reality he has been dealt, and, oath or not, Woojin will always be at his side when he's in need.

****

He wants to do this for Jihoon because, under the circumstances, it’s all he _can_ do. He’s powerless to petition the King to change his mind, powerless to do anything to avert Jihoon’s fate - and Jihoon, he knows, wouldn’t want him to try anyway.

****

The Prince may not be happy with the arrangements but he’ll go through with them out of duty, putting the wellbeing of the nation before his own just like he always has. It’s one of the things Woojin loves most about him, but in this moment it’s one of the things he wishes Jihoon wasn’t; wishes that for once, just once, he would be selfish, would put himself first and try to find an alternative solution.

****

So Woojin finds himself on his knees before his Prince, offering the only solution he can for his worries, watching nervously as Jihoon accepts.

****

“Thank you.” Jihoon is almost shy, eyes bright as he chews on his bottom lip.

****

Woojin is endlessly endeared. He always has been.

****

“No need to thank me, I believe I still owe you a kiss.”

****

The magnetism that is always between them changes tact; instead of pushing them away as it had been before, it now pulls them together so powerfully neither have much time to think before they’re brought into sharp contact with each other. Woojin stands and pulls his Prince to his feet in a kiss that subsequently sweeps him off them. Even this, with just their lips locked, albeit heatedly, and with their arms around each other, feels more right than anything else in the world. It feels right in all the ways that they have pretended it is not.

****

Woojin pushes down the voice in the back of his head warning of the ramifications of this indulgence. He’ll readily deal with the ravaged state of his own emotional battlefield in the aftermath; in exchange for the intoxication that comes with the heat of Jihoon’s mouth, the delicate sounds he makes and the way his small fingers tug frantically at Woojin’s clothes. He’ll face whatever consequences come his way if only for this opportunity to hold Jihoon in his arms and make him feel safe, and loved, and valued.

****

Jihoon’s hands fumble at the ties of Woojin’s leather breastplate and though it is is far lighter than the chainmail he wears when the need for it arises, it feels like an enormous weight has been lifted from Woojin’s chest when Jihoon’s deft fingers finish their work and it falls to the ground at their feet.

****

It is the only armour he wears most days, and with it off, it feels as if the emotional armour he has had to wear around Jihoon constantly these days has fallen off with it.

****

He is vulnerable just as Jihoon is in this moment.

****

He reaches around to cup the back of Jihoon’s thighs and hoist him onto the bed. They don’t break the kiss but as Jihoon’s back hits the bedding he executes one of his more favoured fighting maneouvres, linking his legs around Woojin’s torso in order to flip him over. Woojin can feel the smile of victory against his lips before he pulls away.

****

“I have only one condition though…” Jihoon says as he straddles Woojin, feeling comfortable and confident on top.

****

“I should have known you’d be high maintenance,” Woojin teases, but waits patiently for Jihoon to make his request.

****

“We do this on the condition that you call me by my name. Not ‘Your Highness’. Jihoon.”

****

Woojin opens his mouth, himself unsure what it was to say ー perhaps to argue that, if anything, it should be Woojin who is espousing conditions about this whole affair ー but Jihoon anticipates a protest so he presses down on the growing hardness of Woojin’s crotch to emphasise his point.

****

“You come with my name on your lips or you don’t come at all.”

****

Fuck.

****

Jihoon has always been unfairly attractive when issuing commands or arguing his position in Court, but seeing him call the shots like this in bed stokes the attraction burning in Woojin’s gut into a fire, tenfold. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jihoon can feel him grow harder under his hand.

****

Woojin lets a smirk tug at his lips as he yields to this request too. His usual tactics of avoiding verbalised familiarity will do no good in this undertaking, not once their bodies become as familiar with each other as two people’s could ever be.

****

“Your wish is my command, _Jihoon_ ,” Woojin replies, and the smile he receives in return is blinding.

****

“That’s what I like to hear.” The Prince leans down to sweetly press a kiss to Woojin’s lips before whispering, “Though you’re still wearing too many clothes for my liking. Let’s do something about that.”

****

Woojin lets Jihoon eagerly unlace him, helping him to tug every last stitch of fabric off until his whole body is out in the open for Jihoon to see and touch. He banishes any remnants of shyness as Jihoon runs his hands over his thighs, thumbs digging in to the rows of hard muscle lining his abdomen, fingers daring to brush over where his nipples show darker against his bronzed skin. He traces a fingertip, lightly, maddeningly, up the length of Woojin’s cock where it sits hard between his legs, and that alone is enough for Woojin’s breath to stutter. But Jihoon does not linger there, his hands continue to explore the planes of Woojin’s body, rediscovering it intimately after all this time.

****

The Prince’s touch lingers at the base of Woojin’s ribcage, where a puckered old scar mars the skin. Woojin shivers under the touch and he can tell from the wavering look in Jihoon’s eyes that he is remembering that night at the hunting lodge; in the dead of the night and the depths of winter when the first attempt had been made on Jihoon’s life, mistaken for his eldest brother.

****

There is a reason why Woojin bears this scar instead of Jihoon.

****

There is a reason why Woojin will not let even their love for each other compromise his duty to protect him.

****

Woojin swallows and covers Jihoon’s small hand with his own. He offers the other man a smile, and presses another kiss to his palm in the hopes of drawing him out of the memory of that night and back into the present. He then sets Jihoon’s hand over his heart so that the Prince can feel its reassuringly steady beat. Although, when Jihoon’s gaze sweeps over his body again, they both can feel when Woojin’s heart speeds up slightly.

****

Woojin’s body is one built by relentless physical training and weathered by the hot Summer sun, but as of now it is a body for Jihoon to peruse, to entertain and sate him in all his desires. Or at least, Woojin intends it to.

****

Nonetheless, Jihoon’s careful, almost awed, inspection of every inch of Woojin brings a heat to his cheeks and after some time, he chooses to break the quiet by clearing his throat, eyes darting accusingly to where Jihoon is still fully dressed.

****

Woojin helps him tug his pants off, leaving him in just his thin linen tunic, and though it is long enough to reach down to his mid-thigh, Woojin can easily see where his hardening cock disfigures the line of the fabric, precome already pooling at the tip leaving a wet patch that makes Woojin’s mouth water at the thought of what is underneath.

****

Kneeling between Woojin’s legs, Jihoon shyly grasps the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head. The knight now has the chance to see what he had so desperately avoided staring at during their earlier midnight gander. The soft, supple skin that had shone so pale in the moonlight now glows warm in the candlelight of the Prince’s bedchamber and Woojin reaches up to grasp Jihoon’s waist, running his calloused hands up and down his sides. That touch alone is enough to make the Prince shudder and Woojin can clearly see tangible evidence of the other man’s arousal when he lets his gaze drift lower.

****

The both of them are so worked up already, just from being allowed to touch each other in this forbidden way.

****

Jihoon is looking down at him with tentative eyes, clearly nervous from the way his chest rises and falls more quickly than usual in spite of their inactivity, so Woojin takes his time just stroking his hands over Jihoon’s skin comfortingly. Letting him acclimatise to the feeling of Woojin’s hands on him, to the idea of what they’re about to do.

****

He lets Jihoon make the first move, leaning forward to kiss Woojin again.

****

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Woojin reassures in a whisper against his lips.

****

Jihoon shakes his head. “No, I want this more than anything,” he affirms before cupping Woojin’s jaw in his hands and kissing his way into his mouth so needily that the latter can’t help but wrap his arms around Jihoon’s waist to pull him down onto his chest.

****

When the movement causes their cocks to brush against one another, Jihoon gasps into Woojin’s mouth and tentatively grinds his hips down, drawing a low groan from both of them. Woojin lets Jihoon set the pace, slow and steady; messy, languid kisses as Jihoon grinds down and Woojin raises his hips to meet him.

****

The knight tries not to think about anything other than his hands in Jihoon’s hair, Jihoon’s lips on his, and the crackling atmosphere between them because if he thinks too hard about just what this means, just who it is on top of him slowly taking him to pieces with every movement of their hips, it’s likely he’ll cry or come right there and then. Or both.

****

Which would be supremely unhelpful considering this is all about ensuring Jihoon has an experience he enjoys, one he doesn’t regret.

****

Woojin refuses to let his own regrets come into the picture.

****

But when Jihoon’s hand sneaks down to circle Woojin’s cock, the latter does not hesitate to roll them over so that it is now Jihoon on his back. The excessive size of Jihoon’s bed gives them the luxury of space for such maneuvers and for the first time, Woojin understand its usefulness. He swiftly grabs the offending hand by the wrist and holds it above Jihoon’s head.

****

“None of that,” he admonishes as Jihoon squirms a little in his grip. “This is all about you.”

****

He swallows.

****

_It’s not about us._

****

Moving on from the thought, Woojin gazes down at his Prince affectionately. “What do you want, Jihoon? Tell me.”

****

The furrows in Jihoon’s forehead deepen as contemplation of the question seems to frustrate him. Either not finding an answer or being unable to articulate it.

****

“I want you to touch me,” he hedges, sounding a little strangled.

****

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Woojin asks patiently.

****

Jihoon groans because he wants Woojin everywhere. He wants his touch on every part of his body, every inch of skin, in the same way that he has left an enduring impression on Jihoon’s heart.

****

Woojin releases Jihoon’s hand and moves his own to plant them on Jihoon’s thighs, deciding to assist by supplying some options.

****

“Here?” he asks as he sucks at Jihoon’s neck, just above his collarbone and hard enough to leave a mark.

****

Jihoon whimpers.

****

“Or here?” Woojin suggests instead as he moves lower and takes one of Jihoon’s nipples into his mouth, sucking and rolling and grazing it lightly with his teeth, and the noises Jihoon makes only grow louder.

****

“Or perhaps…” Kissing patiently down Jihoon’s torso, Woojin noses at the trail of hair leading down from his navel. “Perhaps you would like me to touch you here?” he asks innocently as he lands a butterfly kiss on the tip of Jihoon’s leaking, sensitive cock, thumbs rubbing warm circles into the skin of his inner thighs.

****

Jihoon arches his back at the brief contact and stutters out a broken _“Please”_ that tells Woojin that this is exactly where he wants him the most.

****

As he takes Jihoon’s cock in his hand, Woojin supposes that he is a little surprised that what they’re gearing towards is something new for Jihoon to experience. There have been enough nobles, from their kingdom or elsewhere, who have tried to sweep the Prince off his feet during their time at Court, and from what Woojin remembers, Jihoon had seemed a little, if not as equally, enamoured with some of them, especially the allegedly charming eldest son from the Ong delegation who had visited last year.

****

Nonetheless, Woojin is determined to make this good for Jihoon, and he sends off a small apology to Princess Seungwan that he’ll be setting the bar so high that she, nor anyone else Jihoon might lay with after this, could never possibly reach it.

****

However in order to make this design a reality, Woojin tries to focus on stroking Jihoon’s cock more than his own ego. It’s easy to do, to turn all his attention there, because it fits so perfectly into his calloused palm, thick and as pretty as its owner, and Woojin drinks in the way Jihoon responds to his touch, the way his hips jerk and he lets out a whimper whenever Woojin draws back his foreskin to tease a thumbnail against the sensitive slit at the head.

****

He’s somewhat mesmerised by the sight of Jihoon fucking his cock into Woojin’s tight fist, precome easing the slide but only barely. Before he knows it, he’s lowering himself to mouth at the head, holding his lips open and allowing Jihoon’s momentum to carry his cock into Woojin’s mouth. Hand still grasping the base, he bends lower to take all of Jihoon in.

****

Jihoon moans at the sudden change, at the unexpected wet heat now encompassing him, and he drags in a deep breath as Woojin hollows his cheeks and bobs his head as he goes about pleasing Jihoon in a different way than before. The obscene noises that accompany the action only turn Jihoon on more.

****

Woojin guides Jihoon’s hands into his hair and encourages him to grasp it, to tug and pull as he wishes whilst managing not to buck into Woojin’s mouth too violently in an attempt to feel _more_.

****

It’s with a particularly strong, slightly painful, tug that Jihoon warns, “I’m- I think I’m going to-”

****

Woojin pulls off before Jihoon can finish his sentence, not wanting Jihoon to come too soon. Although admittedly, he thinks about what it would have been like for Jihoon to come undone in his mouth, how he would have tasted as Woojin showed his dedication to his Prince by lapping up every last drop of come.

****

The Prince sags back into his pillows, legs splayed open as he tries to catch his breath. In the interim, Woojin realises that he was so distracted by his initial inner turmoil, and then, by the novelty of Jihoon underneath him, that he has forgotten something important.

****

He lurches off the bed and pads over to the Prince’s opulent vanity, fumbling around with all the dainty pots and vials for what he needs while Jihoon complains and orders him to come back right away. Woojin finally finds something akin to what he’s been looking for - a small pot of coconut oil intended for the Prince’s hair - and turns around to find that Jihoon, in the absence of Woojin’s warm body beside him, has made do with ogling him from behind.

****

The sight of Jihoon pushed up on his elbows with hooded eyes and his bottom lip caught between his teeth causes something hot to stir in Woojin’s gut. His cock twitches visibly as he stands there in the middle of the Prince’s bedchamber, everything on display.

****

“Like what you see?”

****

“Absolutely. Now come here so I can see you up close as well.”

****

Back beside his Prince, Woojin turns the pot over in his hands and Jihoon gazes at it with interest. This stage too, will be up to him but it’s not like Woojin has never thought about it.

****

When he’s entered the Prince’s study to find him tangibly frustrated with the latest bureaucratic foolishness of the Lords at Court, Woojin has entertained, if only briefly, the idea of Jihoon sweeping all the papers off his desk and onto the floor in order to take Woojin against it, to relieve the stress coiling in his muscles by losing himself inside his personal guard.

****

When they’ve been sparring in the training yards in the cool of the evening and, evenly matched, it is Jihoon who has gotten the upper hand this time and now kneels atop Woojin’s chest, sword pinned against his throat — when that happens, the blood roaring in his ears from the adrenaline makes him dizzy enough to wish Jihoon would keep him there; would plow him open with the same long, hard strokes and deft accuracy that characterise his swordsmanship.

****

Suffice to say that, in spite of his best attempts to do otherwise, Woojin has thought about it enough; enough to know that right now it’s not quite what Jihoon needs. As much as this is Jihoon seeking to take some aspect of his life into his own hands, to take control where he has been given none, what he needs from Woojin more is someone to take care of him—

****

—and taking care of Jihoon is what Woojin has always done best.

****

Jihoon places a hand on Woojin’s jaw and leans forward to kiss him. “Come on then, what are you waiting for?”

****

“Have you ever done this before?” Woojin asks softly, as he circles Jihoon’s puckered rim, smearing it with the coconut oil he’d lathered onto his fingers, making Jihoon’s breath stutter.

****

Even if Jihoon has touched himself like this on his own, someone else doing it for him is a very different experience. Not to mention that Jihoon’s stout fingers, though cute in Woojin’s eyes, are unlikely to have been able to probe himself anywhere near as deeply as Woojin’s long ones will be able to.

****

To Woojin’s slight surprise, Jihoon nods as he eases in the first finger, all the way to the final knuckle.

****

_“_ Yes,” Jihoon sucks in a breath as he adjusts to the sensation. “The oldest Ong son has, _ah_ , nice fingers.”

****

It seems Woojin’s suspicions hadn’t been too far off the mark after all, but the image of that silver-tongued Prince from the neighbouring kingdom having Jihoon like this - laid out, all soft and expressive - does nothing but provoke the possessiveness that has always coiled beneath Woojin’s skin when it comes to Jihoon, no matter his knowing that it is misplaced.

****

Jihoon is not his, he knows this. Or at least, some part of his brain does, but the rest of his being refutes it. Refuses anything that dare challenge the call of his mind, soul and body for Jihoon, and the call of Jihoon's in return.

****

Save, of course, for Woojin's own inhibitions. Woojin has never denied his own hypocrisy.

****

He teases Jihoon’s hole with the tip of a second finger, waiting for assent from the Prince to progress. When he receives it and starts to scissor Jihoon open, perhaps he hopes to prove that however nice that Ong’s fingers may have been, they’re nothing to the way Woojin’s can make Jihoon feel.

****

_After all, can they do this?_ Woojin wonders, perhaps almost childishly, as he flexes his two fingers inside Jihoon, making the most of their unnatural flexibility and, by the sound he makes, Jihoon appreciates it more now than when Woojin uses it for a gag every now and then.

****

“Then tell me, Jihoon,” Woojin invites, unable to keep the jealousy out of his rough voice. “Why did you not stick around to find out if the Ong Prince’s cock was as nice as his fingers?”

****

Woojin accompanies his words by working in a third finger and the way Jihoon’s breathing quickens as he squeezes his eyes shut momentarily brings a smug twist to Woojin’s lips.

****

“Because,” Jihoon starts breathlessly. He opens his eyes again to stare up at Woojin with so much sincerity it takes Woojin’s own breath away. “He wasn’t _you._ ”

****

The admission hits Woojin in the stomach harder than any elbow Jihoon has thrown during their sparring matches and it leaves him speechless. Instead of fumbling around for a response, he surges forward to take Jihoon’s mouth in a rough kiss, unsure if his intent is to reward Jihoon or to stop him from saying anything else that is going to make Woojin come undone.

****

He crooks his fingers inside of Jihoon at the same time he works his tongue into his mouth, and greedily swallows the moan that builds up from the back of Jihoon’s throat. When Woojin moves his mouth to lap at Jihoon’s jaw, the latter keeps speaking, aware that he is riling Woojin up and  enjoying it immensely.

****

“His fingers I could take. They were gorgeous and from the first time we were introduced I couldn’t stop thinking of how pretty they would look wrapped around my cock, how nice it would be to have them in my mouth, to have them inside me stretching me open.”

****

Woojin sinks his teeth into the juncture between Jihoon’s neck and shoulder, the pleasurable sting it elicits intended as a warning, but Jihoon continues, letting his eyes flutter closed at the memory as Woojin languidly pumps his fingers in and out.

****

“They were as pretty as I’d thought and as skilled as I’d hoped but the entire time, I thought of you.”

****

“Did you pretend that they were my fingers inside of you? Like they are now?” Woojin asks hoarsely, hopefully.

****

But Jihoon hums a dissent. “I didn’t pretend that his fingers were yours, but with every one he added, I couldn’t help but feel that he was stretching me open in preparation for your cock instead of his own.”

****

The knight swears under his breath at the picture Jihoon is painting of himself; in the arms of another yet waiting, saving himself for Woojin like he knew it was only Woojin’s cock that could give him the proper satisfaction he was seeking. On top of all the moans and whimpers Jihoon has let out until now, his sordid story-telling has ensured that Woojin is now painfully hard, cock flushed a dark red at the tip, trails of precome leaking down his shaft as it rests against the ridges of his toned stomach.

****

“I knew… I knew you’d seen us sneak away from the banquet and that you’d chosen not to follow but I couldn’t help imagining that you had. That you were waiting just outside the door to my chambers, listening in as he brought me to the edge, all hot and wet and ready just for you to take me.”

****

Woojin has now moved back, no longer kissing his way along Jihoon’s sternum, he sits back on his haunches, fingers still moving as he watches Jihoon lose himself in the memory, in the phantom pleasure he had gained from imagining this very scenario in the past. The pinched expression he wears, the way he bites his lip, intrigues Woojin as to what he will look like when he finally takes Woojin’s cock for real.

****

He remembers that night; remembers the jealousy that had threatened to claw out his insides when he spotted a giggling Jihoon, cheeks flushed a pretty pink from the mulled wine, taking the hand of the visiting Prince and drawing him away from the banquet. He’d had to remind himself that he had no right to feel the way he did; that Jihoon was allowed the same kind of meaningless fun that Woojin had engaged in on occasion with the other knights, or more rarely, members of the nobility. Though in Woojin’s case, there was less chance of resulting diplomatic fall out. He could not pretend that this was his concern, however. Perhaps he was worried that for Jihoon this wouldn’t be meaningless fun, that Woojin would eventually be tasked with delivering love letters from his Prince to his Prince’s lover in the neighbouring kingdom.

****

Though the idea left a sour taste in his mouth, he knew it would be remiss of him to follow or interfere. Other than his concern for Jihoon’s safety, he shouldn’t be interested in his movements. For now, knowledge of his general whereabouts would suffice, and only once quite some time had passed without his return, should Woojin perhaps go check on him. As it was, he hadn’t wanted to risk witnessing whatever scene he might have happened upon. Hadn’t wanted to have to hear, even on accident, Jihoon calling out someone else’s name while overcome with pleasure.

****

Jihoon opens his eyes to assess with his own measure of smugness the smoldering state he has drawn his partner into with just his words ー the Prince has always been so good with his words ー but when Woojin slips his fingers out he whines, disliking the way it leaves him empty, Woojin’s touch no longer consuming his consciousness.

****

He swallows his disappointment when he sees that Woojin has removed his hand in order to lather his own cock with the fragrant oil before aligning it with Jihoon’s stretched hole, letting the head tease his entrance.

****

“Are you ready, then? Did he prepare you well enough to take me?”

****

“He didn’t, but you did. I can take everything you give me as long as you don’t make me stay like this forever.”

****

By ‘this’, Jihoon means the state in which he waits, gaping and aching for Woojin to fill him to the brim, but Woojin appreciates the view that it gives him. The self-assured, commanding Prince that Woojin knows is now below him, flustered and on the verge of even begging Woojin for his cock in his own Jihoon way, and Woojin would be lying if he said the sight didn’t affect him, if the reversal didn’t intoxicate him a little.

****

But Woojin does not have the intent to torture Jihoon, to edge him over and over until he is a crying mess. Not this time, at least, although there will never be a next time. This time, he wants to give Jihoon exactly what he wants, and delights in his capacity to do so in this as he cannot in other things.

****

The fragrance of coconut is now so strong in the air that Jihoon doesn’t think he can ever apply the product to his hair again without remembering vividly the way that Woojin is pushing into him, slowly and painstakingly and with all the care in the world; watching intently as Jihoon stretches around him and sucks him in.

****

Jihoon arches his back as Woojin slides in, and though he had imagined it, though he had had three of Woojin’s fingers, he is still unprepared for exactly how it feels for Woojin’s cock to be seated inside him. As the burn from the unfamiliar stretch recedes, he feels warm and full and tingles all over.

****

Then Woojin begins to move.

****

He draws out until only the tip of his cock remains inside Jihoon, before pushing back in in one long stoke. His thrusts are slow but precise, in time with the rise and fall of Jihoon’s diaphram such that Jihoon truly feels as if he is breathing in Woojin’s cock just as his hole is sucking it in.

****

Everytime he inhales, there is more of Woojin.

****

Now, just as he always has, Woojin offers a reason for Jihoon to keep breathing, to keep going.

****

Rather than picking up the pace, Woojin takes his time, rolling his hips into Jihoon and, when he finds that sweet spot inside him, he rubs against it tantalisingly; one, twice, and again, until Jihoon is curling his toes at sparks of pleasure that shoot through him, along his spine and out to every inch of his body.

****

The bliss on Jihoon’s face at feeling Woojin moving inside him is shaded with an edge of desperation as he keens at Woojin’s touch; wanting harder, wanting faster, wanting more.

****

“Please, Woojin, I need- I need--” Jihoon breaks off in a whimper but Woojin understands.

****

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he reassures, leaning in to kiss those trembling lips. “I promise I’m going to make you feel so good, just trust me. But first you have to be patient.”

****

Jihoon is entirely at Woojin’s mercy but the reason that it is his cock inside him is because of the trust between them, so he nods obediently as Woojin keeps the steady but slow pace of his hips and pays attention to the nipple of Jihoon’s that he had neglected earlier, swirling it in his mouth and listening to the way Jihoon moans louder at the extra stimulation.

****

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Woojin hears himself whisper as he pulls away to map the rest of Jihoon’s chest with kisses. He wonders at what point he decided to let himself speak aloud what runs through his mind at the sight of the only person his heart has ever pursued, even if his mind would not let him. “You’re always so beautiful I can hardly bear it.”

****

Jihoon’s face twists at that and for a moment, Woojin is worried that he is about to cry, not from the overwhelming pleasure of Woojin fucking into him, but from a reminder of the neglect he’s suffered from the man he’s loved for so long.

****

Woojin’s only, imperfect, solution is to keep saying it, in lieu of the three words he cannot say. To keep murmuring into every inch of Jihoon’s skin just how beautiful he is and when he says it, Woojin is not simply talking about the eyes that leave him spellbound in a way that he is still not immune to, even after more than two decades. He’s not simply talking about the soft, unblemished skin that all the Court ladies envy. He’s not simply talking about the rosy lips that haunt Woojin even in his dreams.

****

He knows, Woojin does, that these are merely physical manifestations of the light that burns inside Jihoon; the compassion, the desire for justice, the determination to see things through to the end, to take the right path every time even if it is not the easy one.

****

Woojin has seen this light flutter, even dim, but it has never gone out, no matter what the world has thrown at his Prince and Woojin has never been able to look away.

****

All things considered, his poor heart never stood a chance.

****

Woojin reaches for the hands that Jihoon has braced on his shoulders, interlocking their fingers and pressing his hands against the bed on either side of Jihoon’s head. Jihoon squeezes his hands in response as he wraps his legs around Woojin’s waist, trying to get closer, trying to bring Woojin as deep as possible in the time they have together.

****

Woojin shifts forward and at this new angle, the head of his cock drags against Jihoon’s prostate every time it enters and leaves him and the Prince’s hitched breaths and low groans are replaced by cries of a higher pitch, engendering Woojin to wonder if eventually he will rise to a shout that echoes from the walls of the bedchamber.

****

Then, with no warning, Woojin deals a particularly sharp thrust and Jihoon does shout and Woojin decides he wants to chase after another. The slide of his cock in and out of Jihoon’s slick hole quickens, spurring Jihoon into a litany of curses as the repeated motion, now greater in power, shakes the bed frame.

****

“Uh, _uh,_ Woojin, fuck-- _uh Woojin--”_ The knight has never loved hearing his name so much a now, when it spills from Jihoon’s lips as the only way for the Prince to properly express the intensity of how good he feels, how good Woojin is making him feel.

****

Woojin’s arousal only heightens when he thinks about being the first to make Jihoon feel this way; the first person to fill him with a cock until he can barely think straight.

****

It’s a privilege, an honour that he wants to wear like a badge and with Jihoon so hot and tight around him, Woojin can’t believe that he ever wanted to pass this opportunity up.

****

“Jihoon, _God_ \-- do you know how incredible you feel? Did you know what you would do to me when you asked for this? I’m never going to be able to fuck anyone else without wishing it was your hole tight around my cock.”

****

Later, Woojin will realise those sentiments were best left unsaid but in the moment all he wants to do is praise Jihoon; all Woojin wants to do is hold his Prince accountable for the way in which he is slowly losing his mind, piece by piece, and it’s all because of Jihoon.

****

Everything about this is as overwhelming as Woojin had feared and he can only hope that the damage he is doing to himself by indulging in it, is outweighed by the reassurance it gives Jihoon along with the confidence to go forward.

****

The words seem to hit Jihoon harder than any of Woojin’s thrusts thus far, and he replies, breathless but clearly satisfied, “Good. Fuck, I don’t want you to fuck anyone else but me. Your lips are mine. Your cock is mine. Your heart is mine.” He squeezes their hands together where they are still interlocked, either side of his head.

****

In any other circumstances, Woojin would have been furious at Jihoon for saying such a thing, but as it stands - or rather, as it lies - he cannot bring himself to object to what he knows is the truth.

****

In any other circumstances, Jihoon would not have said such a thing; aware of how selfish, and unwanted, his possessiveness would be in the scheme of things.

****

It goes to show just how far gone each of them are when drowning in the other’s embrace, that it drives them to say things they never would otherwise.

****

It is here and now, between Jihoon’s legs and inside him deeper than anyone else has ever been, that Woojin finally stops lying to himself.

****

What Woojin knows of himself is that he is in love with the Prince he has dedicated his life in service to. The Prince he would do the same for whether he had royal blood or not. The Prince who would give his own life in Woojin’s defence without hesitation, even though the status quo should be the opposite.

****

The unbridled romantic love that simmers in his heart is something Woojin has begrudgingly admitted from time to time, claiming displeasure at the fact.

****

What Woojin only admits to himself now, at the worst possible time imaginable (save perhaps for Jihoon’s wedding day), is that his love for Jihoon is something he wants to cling to as much as he clings to the man beneath him.

****

In seeking to show Jihoon with his mouth and his hands and his cock just what it feels like to be wanted, Woojin can no longer escape the truth that he _does_ want Jihoon. This is no hypothetical scenario. The raw emotion with which he swamps Jihoon is entirely real.

****

No longer is he content for his feelings to dwell inside his heart only, as they rot away in isolation like a tree stump in the depths of the forest. No longer is he satisfied to harbour such a powerful love for Jihoon yet allow it to cause only pain to the both of them.

****

He not only loves Jihoon, but wants to _be able to_ love him, in every sense of the word, in every way that he has denied himself for years.

****

He wants Jihoon underneath him, he wants Jihoon above him, he wants Jihoon beside him, no matter what.

****

He wants the wedding of the Spring to be theirs. He wants the children Jihoon will inevitably raise with Seungwan to be his and Jihoon’s instead. He wants a future with Jihoon in all the ways that are forbidden to them.

****

He wants, and he wants, and he _wants._ In this moment, he allows himself to love Jihoon fully - in the way that Jihoon deserves.

****

In the way that they both deserve.

****

Woojin can feel a tightening in his abdomen, a humming beginning in his ears, and he knows he’s close but he wants Jihoon to get there first. He starts driving into Jihoon in earnest, withdrawing one of his hands from their intertwined grasp to instead fist around Jihoon’s cock, jerking him off at the same time Woojin’s cock keeps a relentless pace. A sharp gasp is all the warning he gets before Jihoon is coming, muscles spasming and ropes of come painting themselves over Woojin’s hand.

****

“Shit, Jihoon, can I-?” He can hardly get the words out but even in his fucked out haze Jihoon understands what he’s asking.

****

“Yes, God, yes Woojin. Come inside me, please,” he begs, even in spite of the overstimulation of Woojin continuing to fuck him through and beyond his orgasm. Even as the oversensitivity wavers indistinguishably between pleasure and pain.

****

It’s over for Woojin then, static filling his ears and vision flashing white as he unravels, still buried inside Jihoon, filling him with hot spurts of come. And, as promised, it is Jihoon’s name on his lips as he tips over the edge.

****

The edge he’s been precariously balancing on for so long; the edge of a sword’s blade he was doomed to topple from, on one side or another eventually.

****

He collapses forward into Jihoon’s chest before rolling over and pulling Jihoon into his embrace, the both of them slick with sweat and smelling of sex. When Woojin’s softening cock slips out, Jihoon can feel the come leaking out of his hole but he doesn’t mind. Revels in it, even; at the way it allows him to recall the sensation of Woojin inside of him, filling him up.

****

They should probably clean themselves up, but the exhaustion tugging at Jihoon’s limbs convinces him that it can wait. He doesn’t want to move a single inch further away from Woojin.

****

He nestles into Woojin’s neck as their breathing slows and presses a soft kiss of thanks to his throat and Woojin practically glows at the affection, more content than he has ever been, simply with Jihoon in his arms like this.

****

The truth is, Woojin has always been Jihoon’s, in one way or another. Yet now, Woojin allows himself to pretend that Jihoon is what he never has been and never will be:

****

He allows himself to pretend that Jihoon is his.

****

It doesn’t last.

****

The ownership of his feelings, of his wants and desires, that had rushed over him like a wave, now fades into seafoam along with the receding tide of the afterglow.

****

In another world, it would be their marital union on the horizon, and this union of flesh between them would be a celebration rather than a stolen moment clutched close for comfort. In another world, they would be together in every sense of the word in every way that they wish - but in this one, their love is nothing more than a fairytale fated to fall apart from the very beginning.

****

Jihoon nuzzles into his chest, expression content and eyes heavy-lidded whilst Woojin’s heart is in his throat. (It is trying to escape into Jihoon’s hands but he will not let it.)

****

Woojin allows himself a soft kiss to the top of Jihoon’s head, before lying back with a sigh and staring up at the ceiling. Once again he dons the painstakingly assembled emotional armour that he had set aside momentarily, in order to allow Jihoon to be vulnerable and for Woojin to meet him in that vulnerability.

****

But that moment has come to an end.

****

As an exhausted Jihoon tries to cling to the waking world just as tightly as he does to Woojin, the latter mumbles into the Prince’s hair.

****

“You should get some sleep, Your Highness.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> .....Jihoon that's grotty go take a bath :(((
> 
> Hhh anyway, thank you for reading xo I struggled a bit with writer's block for this one, particularly in working out how to write 2Park's dynamic, but I hope it was an enjoyable read nonetheless. Let me know what you thought ♡♡


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